


The Dawn Will Come

by BreviaryRose



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5886559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreviaryRose/pseuds/BreviaryRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new semester starts at their university, and the survivors are forced to live with their choices in the aftermath of that horrific night on the mountain. A mysterious break-in has the survivors shaken after the figure appears less than human. After months of separation, the survivors will be thrown back into the Blackwood Mountain horror story if they want to or not. [Mike / Sam]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The . Dawn . Will . Come .**

****

**AUTHOR's NOTES**

Hello, new fandom! Because my head refuses to shut up, I present you with a different approach to the Mike/Sam relationship from _Until Dawn_ , a game that basically is to blame for this story. This pairing isn't nearly as developed as it deserves, so I am hoping to contribute this ship by adding this story.

I'm shooting for around 40k words total or more. Chapter will vary in length. This is intentional. I don't mean to spoil you one chapter and deprive you with another. This is the first story that I'm not concerned with a chapter number to word count ratio. I'm letting this story develop as it does naturally.

The title of this story comes from _Dragon Age: Inquisition_. That game has no other affiliation with this story. I really love the choral song similarly titled.

**ADDITIONAL NOTES**

To my faithful readers who may see this in their emails, I do recommend you either watch gameplay (cutscenes) on YouTube or read on the game's wikia pages for context if you wish to read this story. This has nothing to do with Marvel.

This story will be rated **a heavy rated M**. Cursing is prominent in the game, so I'm keeping up with this as a style choice.

**Spoilers will occur for those who forgo research or those who have not finished the game.**

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**Chapter 1**

A night like many nights was not unique. A fear like many fears was commonplace. A blessing like all blessings was boring.

A night like that night in the cabin in Canada was something people fed through the stream of dreams, a nightmare. The word didn't quite grasp the hells and horrors of that night on the mountaintop. But what did someone do when no word in existence underlined the severity of a night like that one?

Sam thought they would forget it altogether.

She both had and had not forgotten, though. Sometimes when she went places familiar to her past friendships with the Washington siblings, she would hear their voices or their laughter.

She'd forgotten what she could: the survivors, the fear, the place, the life from before, mostly.

She was changed. Then again, they all had.

Josh was still missing/at large, but no one had suggested they go back to find out what became of the friend. Not even Sam.

Samantha stretched across her twin bunk bed in her dark dorm room. She had no roommate. This dump was all hers.

Joy.

Emily, Ashley, and Jessica hadn't tried to talk to her for a while. They'd given up. Good on them, Sam idly mused.

The girl wanted to be left alone with her head full of demons...and Wendigos. And her memory of Josh.

She was for the most part…alone.

Chris approached her occasionally, usually to insist she talk about that night. At the beginning of this fall semester, they shared two classes. The next day sat in two new, different classrooms to classes she was sure wouldn't contribute much to her targeted degree.

She wanted out of this school, but transferring would cost her more of her inheritance. Her parents would question her about the abrupt decision, and she would have to stick to a story for the rest of her life.

And that sounded tiresome.

She tolerated the sociology class she opted to enroll in. It was pretty remedial, but it allowed her to bypass another semester of being reached out to from the others.

Problems persisted in her plans to forgetting everything: Mike.

He was in the sociology class with her, but he minded his own business on the opposite side of the room. Sam sat a few rows lower than him to avoid seeing him. She felt him stare down at her occasionally, but he had allowed her ignorance when the others demanded her awareness.

He was the one that escaped her ignorance. He changed in the same way she had. He was the only other survivor aside from her. They fought the Wendigos together and kept each other alive.

He meant more to her than she cared to admit, but she still insisted in treating him the same. Mike only ever caused more problems than he intended.

Peace forgot about her, but ignorance was a kind decoy; however, it only existed in the real world. Falling asleep was a real chore. She saw everything again, so some nights she threw slumber to the wind.

Her health had taken a hit. Sleep deprivation was not a kind substitute for the hellish horrors of the mountain, but she graciously accepted it. She preferred to avoid sleep anyway.

A knock at the door stole her away from her reverie. A groan lowly festered at her throat, but Sam reluctantly got up to answer anyway. As she cracked the door, she instantly saw Mike.

He didn't appear changed. He looked the same, but she only saw a flash of the wounds that battered his face just before they escaped the cabin before it blew up. The reminder caused her to wince, but she quickly adjusted herself to appear cool, aloof. "What do you want? It's late."

His brow rose, "It's only six-thirty."

"Still dark."

"Evening," he playfully amended.

"Good night," she flatly said as she started to close the door.

He reached out and stopped it from closing, opening it up slightly. "Sam-"

"Do you want me to rip your face off?" she curtly interrupted with a bored, yet aggressive tension in her features.

His angular face scrunched inward, "Interesting choice of words."

"Don't mean nothing by it," she said, her southern drawl a bit more obvious. Despite her brain commanding her to shut the door on his face, Sam rolled her eyes and stubbornly opened the door and walked away to sit down on the bed.

As she crossed her legs on the bed, she noticed her shorts were her old volleyball shorts. They were tight over her somewhat adequate ass. She wore a sports bra with no shirt. Mike had seen her in worse. "What do you want?"

He grabbed the rolling chair at her desk and mounted it backwards so that his arms crossed over on the high back of the chair. He offered a cavalier grin, "I want to join your dancing club."

"Fuck, Mike," she groaned without raising her monotonous tone, "Be serious."

His brows twitched closer together, but he still smiled, "I am."

"Why the hell would my dance club be of any interest to you?" she asked, her curiosity too demanding to ignore.

He held up his hand, "I can't play football or basketball anymore."

"Did your ass get hard from warming the bench, or did they kick you off the team?" she asked instantly.

"They shoved their boot so far up my ass, I thought my head would expand," he joked.

Sam exhaled almost in the manner of a single laugh, but it sounded more like indigestion. She still didn't smile, "Dancing won't help your hand any more than catching balls would."

"It will keep me in shape. If we were to be partners, we could work together to find a nice balance for us both," he started. After swallowing, his smile dimmed quite a bit and he scooted in closer to her, "I know you have a sustaining leg injury from that night. I watched you dancing a few days ago." As sudden as it vanished, the smile returned, "You need the support of a strong man."

Finally, she laughed, even though she was supposed to have scoffed. "Mike, stop."

She stood up and stood by the window, glanced down and grabbed her phone. She scrolled through the music app, and selected a slower, percussion-filled instrumental piece. When she turned, she glanced down at Mike, "Show me what I would have to fix."

He took her outstretched hand and gently squeezed it as he stood from the rolling chair. She reached around him with her other hand and shoved the blasted object away from them.

He was so much taller than she was, she mused. This information wasn't news to her, though. Michael Munroe stood higher than most of the individuals in the original group of 'friends.'

Mike snaked his arm around her bare back and lifted her toward him when she began to pull away, "Like I said, support of a strong man."

When he smiled at her, she glanced away. Her eyes settled on his inflicted hand, "Does your hand still hurt?"

"Every fucking day," he replied amiably as he stepped back.

She followed his wavering lead. Sam didn't think he knew how to properly hold a partner, but she didn't want to talk about dancing anymore. "How are you able to smile and laugh after what happened?" Sam timidly whispered.

When she glanced up, his eyes were distant, but he still grinned stupidly. She followed the moving bob of the Adam's apple as he swallowed, "You're not the only one trying to forget, Sam."

"Sometimes I hear Josh joking from outside this room," she softly said. Her lips stretched, but it still wasn't a smile. "He would sneak in the dorms just to hang out with me for a few hours when I studied too much."

Mike continued to sway them slowly, "You liked him, didn't you?"

She narrowed her eyes as she attempted to ponder the question. "I didn't have romantic feelings for him, but we connected differently than I have with anyone else."

Her answer seemed to entertain him from the way he chuckled, "You're so out of touch with your emotions." It was a statement. She didn't think he meant to offend her. He hadn't. His eyes guided down to her lips quickly, but he was quick to move his hues back to her eyes, "Even from before."

Sam stepped on his foot. When he winced dramatically, she apologized. For a few seconds, neither spoke. She exhaled and inhaled, "Mike, we weren't friends before. Not really."

"We're hardly friends now, Sam," he commented as he stepped on her toes with a playful glint in his eyes, "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes even though her lips stretched slightly, "I'm serious. You didn't really know me."

Mike's eyes narrowed. He pulled her closer to him and dipped her lazily. She followed his lead for now, and dramatically arched her back so her head slowly rose as he brought her back up to him. A passing of exotic friction and quiet intrigue flowed between them as his nose touched hers.

"Did Josh like you?" he continued quietly.

Mike leaned down as she finished moving up from the dip. She relaxed her body against his strong arms and looked down at his lips. Her lashes ticked his cheek.

As she glanced up, Sam saw a shift in his expression. It was nefarious and hot. It was metallic and questioning. She didn't pull away, though. His expression matched how she felt. "I'm sure he was interested."

"What makes you say that?" he asked roughly.

Their noses brushed again, and Sam moved her head up so it knocked against the tip of his gently. "He never treated me like he told you and Chris to treat girls. He was kind and attentive to listening to me about things I thought mattered."

"Like what?" he continued hoarsely.

Sam moved her hand slowly from his shoulder to his stomach, "Vegetarian shit, saving the local wildlife, and small bunches of feministic opinions."

Mike laughed, which tightened his abs underneath the thin shirt he wore, "I bet you hated me before."

Sam moved her hand lower to find the edge of his shirt. She felt the elastic band of his basketball shorts. Deliberately, her hand moved underneath the shirt at her fingertips, brushing burning, exposed flesh at his waist.

The contact made him squirm away from her touch. Mike awkwardly laughed and heaved as he turned around toward the door. "So am I in?" he loudly probed.

The odd reaction shook her out of her reverie: whatever spell she was under in his arms. "Yeah, sure," she spat. Sam hadn't meant to add such venom beneath the words, and she winced in response.

He didn't seem to notice, though, because he waved his hand over his head and left the room without another word.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**AUTHOR's NOTES**

Thanks for reading. This story has a focus on life after the ending of the game. Everyone survives is the ending I'm going with. SPOILER ALERT! Josh lives as a Wendigo.

I'm also deciding to honor the lovely majority who enjoy Sam with Josh by incorporating Josh in small pieces throughout this story in some way. I don't hate Josh! I just dislike him for Sam, especially after playing through the whole game! Sam and Mike have SUCH good chemistry, and they are both strong.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**BREVIARY-ROSE**  



	2. Chapter 2

**The . Dawn . Will . Come .**

****

**AUTHOR's NOTES**

Wow, thanks for the reviews! This is a small community, so I wasn't expecting any for the first few chapters. I'm glad others are interested in this ship.

**ADDITIONAL NOTES**

**Spoilers will occur for those who forgo research or those who have not finished the game.**

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**Chapter 2**

Friday: another pointless fucking day.

Sam sat in her usual spot down by the front of the classroom precisely in the fourth row and the fifth seat from the right aisle.

People often opted to skip the class, so she usually sat by herself except the two girls who gossiped the entire duration at the left side of the same row.

Class hadn't started, yet. She always came earlier than she needed to. She didn't know why. Josh always stressed the importance of being early for class to her. He never applied the logic to his own life.

Only three weeks in the semester, sociology was proving to be her favored discipline. She thought it was interesting to learn about the various theories and how the world existed in other great minds in history.

She hated the man, but Freud sure was an interesting character to learn about.

The seat to her right unfolded, and she glanced up seeing Mike. He nearly pranced into his seat from the row behind. "That was pointless. You could have walked the four fucking seats to sit down."

He shrugged. "Then no one would look at me." Sam though a pout sat on his lips, too.

"Mike…" she groaned.

He threw his bag on the seat next to him and looked back at her, "Sam…"

"Why are you sitting next to me?" she patiently fumed.

"Someone is sitting in mine," he said as he nonchalantly withdrew his notebook and pen from his bag. He didn't look at her.

When she glanced back, no one was there. "Seriously, Mike. What gives?"

He abruptly twisted in his seat and reached over with his injured hand, which now rested on her shoulder. "Sam, here's the deal. I can't stop thinking how unpleasant you look by yourself," he grinned broadly, "I figured I'd lighten up your life a bit by sitting next to you. You do have to consider what the poor professor thinks." He leaned in toward her and whispered, "He stares right at us when he's here."

She hit his arm lightly. Her mouth relaxed a bit and she found herself catching her laughter before it ignited, "Mike!" She pushed him away from her playfully, "You're so fucking full of shit!"

He scrunched his face a bit and raised his brow contentiously. He held up his hand and examined his inflicted finger. After she acknowledged the limb by irritably rolling her eyes, he reached over her and moved her closer to him.

His other hand reached for her chin and made sure her attention was fixed on him. She raised her brow, but said and did nothing. "I've seen my insides, and I can assure you I saw no shit." He smiled innocently.

A twitch disturbed her lips. "That's not funny," she said as seriously as she could.

He pinched the air and narrowly left a space between his thumb and index finger, "It's a little funny."

She shook her head, "Nope."

His eyes widened and he nodded furiously, "Yep."

"You're trying too hard, Mike. I don't think I'll ever laugh again," she said lightly.

He gasped and placed his hand on his chest over his heart, "That's a serious offense, Sam."

Sam's features fell, "Okay, now you're trying too hard."

He held up both hands, "Stopping."

Silence fell over them for a few minutes. The doors to the lecture hall opened and closed as students filed in. She glanced at him, "So, you're seriously going to sit here?"

He nodded, "Yep."

"Mike…"

The door opened again, and the professor emerged. Mike pushed a finger over his mouth, "Class is starting. I'm trying to learn!"

This time, she held her hands up in defeat, "Sorry for being a distraction."

She certainly was a distraction, he thought.

A welcomed one.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Emily crossed her arms and tapped her toes against the tiled hallway outside the sociology classroom. "How fucking long is this class?" she impatiently asked. Her voice echoed in a small surrounding area.

The dark-haired girl paced across the expanse of the double doors quickly until she heard voices enclosing. "Finally," she seethed.

About thirty students emerged until she saw Mike with Sam. Emily worried about that girl, but she clearly wanted nothing to do with the fucking group anymore.

She didn't have to be her best friend just because Sam saved her life from the man standing in front of her with a questioning looking in his features. Mike appeared anxious for an obvious fucking reason. He was so God damned whipped.

Sam swallowed nervously and instantly became distant. She appeared bored. Odd for someone who used to be so fiercely friendly. Whatever. "Hey, Sam. I'm here to collect Mike, so you can go back to pretending I died again."

As Emily collected Mike's hand, Sam groaned, "Still the same."

Emily approached her with expressive interest, "What does that mean, Sam?"

"This is unreal," Sam retorted. She bobbed her head back and forth as if to demean Emily's preppy mannerisms. Emily scoffed, but Sam answered, "You're still a bitch."

Sam moved between Mike and Emily, and Mike peeled her hand away from his in order for Sam to pass.

Emily huffed and glanced over to Mike, who didn't even look at her. "Bye, Sam." His attention over her short frame was constant and deliberate. Emily would have smiled had she not been thoroughly pissed off.

"See ya, Mike," Sam said monotonously.

Mike loved Sam. He had told Emily on multiple occasions. Although they dated and continued to casually fuck when they both needed a release, Emily considered him a close friend. She felt nothing special for Mike. Not anymore. Especially not after!

How could she when he held a fucking gun to her head?

"How cute!" she said sarcastically with a raised pitched. She even smiled, which quickly morphed back to a hard frown, "Now let's get back to me."

He swallowed, but didn't push her hand away, "Emily, this needs to stop."

Emily pulled him along, but threw a quick glance over her shoulder, "Eventually, but you're not with her yet."

"I don't want to give her the wrong impression, Em," Mike reluctantly said.

Emily choked on her laughter, "Stop being such a pussy, Mike." She turned around again, "You're killing my mood."

When they arrived to her dorm, she kicked out her roommate quite rudely and without a care. As the girl fled the room, Emily slammed the door and shoved him against the door. "You're still a man, Mike. Your cock relishes the blissful abyss of a cunt. Love was never on the table," she despicably said.

Mike knew she needed this more than he did. The student hadn't a clue why he kept up with this habit. Emily was the first girl that caught his interest. They were the same breed…at least, they used to be.

Both had a narcissistic shallowness. She was quicker to advertise her faults than he was, however. He thrived on his approachable image to everyone. That mask kept him in the center. That stage was comfortable for him because he controlled it.

So when she reached for him and whispered, "Mike. God, you're so fucking sexy. I want you. I need you now!" in a voice similar to Sam's, he snapped.

He took control and Emily faded away like she did the last time. And the times before that. The phantom in his arms didn't mind if he was a bit too rough. She craved the new, raw passion that festered within him.

The creature wasn't scared of him or the dark thoughts as he forced her out of her clothes. This phantom in his arms charged forth and commanded him, encouraged him, as he shoved her roughly down on the bed. He felt glorious when she took him in her mouth.

The ghost in his mind worshipped him because he controlled the phantom. It was his. He owned it. He hungered for it.

He pounded inside of this haunting, beautiful creature endlessly until his whole body shook violently: as if he fought against a demanding, hellish chill.

A wash of shame bathed him as he fell on top of reality: Emily. Her. His eyes felt heavy and tired. Eventually, the world began to shake through the glossy haze of his tears that spilled.

He was a wild animal.

He was an uncontrollable, unsteady monster. Just like the mindless, ravenous Wendigo.

He peeled himself from Emily, who scoffed at his tears. "This is who you are now, Mike. Accept it," she ordered impatiently.

He turned around and wiped the fucking tears away. He bent down and put his pants on. He felt a bitter rage swarm within him, and he heaved as he pointed to her, "You fucking shut up!" He exhaled deeply in a quick tempo. His eyes became murderous, "This ends now, Emily."

Emily was unfazed by his threats, "Of course it doesn't."

He leaned over her, an animal locked on his prey, "Don't. Push. Me."

"Do you think Sam can handle this psychologically fucked up monster?" Emily smugly uttered. Her eyes ignited, and she spat, "She won't look at you the same way she did a half hour ago. Psycho Josh fucked her up. She won't ever trust you when you're going to abandon her to your own brand of crazy, Mike."

His hand whipped across her face, and he roared at her. She stared up at him as she rubbed a hand over the infliction with a despicable grin.

Mike realized that she wanted him like this. She was controlling him again. And he felt like a fool. He reached down to pick up his shirt and turned to grab his backpack. He faced the door, "We're completely done, Emily. This isn't me, and I'm done being used and manipulated by a deranged whore."

She laughed manically. "We're all fucked up, Mike. I'm just choosing to embrace it." Her voice lowed, "Why fight the inevitable. We're all going to end up like Josh."

He turned around, but he placed his hand on the doorknob. He pointed with the hand clutching his shirt at her, "You need help, Emily." He exhaled, "You need fucking help."

He opened the door despite being shirtless and slammed the door. His eyes threatened to spill over again, but he tried his best to harden his heart until he got back to his dorm. He wiped his face with his shirt, but he couldn't move. Not yet.

Someone cleared their throat, and he jumped a bit while his eyes moved to the noise. His whole body shut down with a profound fear, "Sam…"

She bit her lip, and took a deep breath. She stayed where she was, half tucked behind a sharp corner of the hallway and half peeking around it. She moved her head against the wall there. "Sally came to my dorm an asked me for a mutual class' textbook," she paused, but held his gaze. Eventually she continued, "She said she had been kicked out and forgot the textbook."

He swallowed, "Sally…is Emily's roommate." He didn't end with a question. He wasn't stupid.

"Yep," she admitted.

His body was sweaty and smelled like Emily. He suddenly felt dirty and drenched with guilt. He shook his head as he tried to form words. All he could say was her name. No other words escaped his lips. He held her gaze and fought desperately to hold back the tears threatening his big brown eyes.

Sam rushed to him and stretched her arms, but he held her back, "Fuck, Sam. I just had sex with Emily."

Sam swatted away his hand and held his gaze. "I can take a shower and privately gag, Mike. You need something, and this is the only thing I can do," the smaller student retorted softly. Her arms wrapped around him and she felt him drop his belongings to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her and nearly dropped to the floor as he sank into her.

He allowed himself to cry in her arms. Sam moved her hands so her right hand rested against the back of his neck and her left hand rubbed against his muscular back. Quickly, he withdrew himself from him and glanced around, "Sorry." He wiped at his eyes.

Sam only shook her head and stared at him. "No problem, Mike." He grabbed his things and started to walk around her, but she caught his wrist lightly, "Stay in my dorm, Mike. I'm all alone, and I thought it helped, but it doesn't."

He snapped his head back. Those brown eyes wavered and blinked repeatedly. She swallowed and let go of his wrist. "It sucks being alone and left to your own demons," she clarified. "I-" she paused to swallow nervously, "I would appreciate the company, honestly."

He breathed deeply, but nodded, "I'd like that, too."

"Good. You had no choice in the matter," she lightly said with a genuine smile.

Her smile gave him strength in that moment. He looked around them, not quite sure where to look. She surely didn't want him oogling her. "I'll wash up in my dorm, and I'll bring over a few things."

"Perfect," she added awkwardly. Nervously, she clapped once and moved away from him. "I'll go wash Emily off of me now."

He winced, "Sorry."

She looked back and smiled softly, "It's not a problem. I'll see you in an hour or so."

He smiled back, and she rounded the corner out of his sight. Mike felt the corners of his mouth widen stupidly.

A door swung open, and Mike was knocked out of his reverie. The disturbance came from behind him. As he turned around, he saw Ashley with a frown on her face. It wasn't atypical by any means, but this frown spoke of trouble.

She would probably tell Chris. Not that Mike fucking cared in this unexpected moment.

To be polite, he nodded and waved as he turned around to move away from her. Ashley warned, "How can you do this, Mike? Wasn't Hannah enough?"

Mike clenched his jaw and paused in his pursuit, but he opted to say nothing and walk away from her crazy ass instead. Before he was outside of earshot, though, he heard her say, "I won't let you hurt her, too."

He didn't have any more fight to argue with her, though. He needed to see Sam again. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**AUTHOR's NOTES**

Chapter 3 should be released early next week! Thanks for reading! 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**BREVIARY-ROSE**  



	3. Chapter 3

**The . Dawn . Will . Come .**

****

**AUTHOR's NOTES**

Thank you for supporting this story. I'm so happy to see how many people appreciate this pairing. I will be exploring other characters in the next few chapters. I'm hoping you'll all like the side pairings I bring in. I'm excited about this! Enjoy!

**ADDITIONAL NOTES**

**Spoilers will occur for those who forgo research or those who have not finished the game.**

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

**Chapter 3**

It was eleven o'clock – hardly late for the average university student.

Sam couldn't sleep. Shocker.

The man in the bed next to her appeared to be asleep, but his back was to her, so she couldn't know for sure.

The weekend prevented the need to try to sleep anytime soon. The only commitment she had was a session with Mike for her 'club.'

The club was a joke to be honest. The university's counselors asked for a trade this semester. Since no one wanted to be her roommate for the constant nightmares and dysfunctional survival habits she now had, she needed to prove she would be fine without the guidance of psychologists.

That meant social interaction.

The woman wanted nothing to do with shrinks. They hadn't helped Josh at all, and she feared she'd become like him eventually.

No, thank you.

So, she was a bit of an above average dancer, so she decided to have an open but unadvertised dance group.

Thinking back, she mused as she glanced over to Mike, how had he found out about it? Her eyes narrowed when her heart tightened in response of his proximity. He was in her room after tremendously awkward circumstances.

A spark of jealously slanted her mood, but she needed to remember that he needed to somehow mend the scars in his mind somehow. If fucking Emily helped, she couldn't judge him.

The mountain had given her one thing: Mike Munroe. The two hadn't liked each other before very much. She blamed him for the deaths of Hannah and Beth before that night. She thought he was a typical jock who slept his way to the top of their class – just like high school.

They saved each other multiple times that night, and they shared a unique chemistry, shown in the way they understood each other as they plotted to burn the cabin. It developed so quickly, and she still didn't know why it had developed; however, Sam was now faced with an intense respect for him.

That respect gradually grew to these feelings. The nightmares replayed the events back almost in sequential order sometimes. As she revisited them, she gravitated toward him more.

Sam didn't think she could stop it.

At first, these feelings came at the heavy cost of guilt. Josh had her attention before that night, and she thought she had his. She wasn't an idiot. He may have liked her a lot, but he never acted on whatever feelings he had for her.

Sam thought he thought it wasn't worth it. They had a great friendship – always there for the other. She'd known him since her childhood. Hannah was her best friend, and she always asked Sam to stay away from Josh to preserve their friendship.

Hannah was a bit selfish at times, but she had a good heart. When Sam realized what Hannah had become, Sam was disgusted by her reaction and need to kill the creature she had been. That monster wasn't her.

That reaction may have been ruthless, but Sam had made it out alive because of it. She hadn't let her feelings of terror control her the way Ashley did. Lord, that girl was near useless without Chris or Sam.

"Sam, what's wrong?" she heard Mike ask softly, hesitantly. He'd turned around to face her.

She shook her head, "Nothing." He looked at her funny. "Honest," she promised.

He seemed to relax, "Good."

"Mike...?" she raised as she sat up. When she saw him focus back on her, she crossed her legs and sighed, "Do you think of Josh at all?"

He swallowed roughly, but answered reluctantly, "Yeah, Sam. I do." He paused, but decided to add, "Not in the way I should, though."

"Can I tell you something? I need you to answer and listen to me without your popular guy jokes and sarcasm, though," she warned hesitantly.

He sat up and moved his legs over the side of the bed to face her, "Sam, what's up?" He etched concern over his features, and she liked that for some reason. He added, "You can always talk to me."

She smiled, but it was erased when she felt nerves tickle her gut. She sighed and stared at him, "Ever since we got back from that mountain, I've thought about you in ways that have me thinking I may have feelings for you."

He openly watched her as his mouth formed a grin that made her want to smile. She didn't, though. He looked as if he wanted to speak, but she held her hand up, "I'm a little fucked up in the head right now." She swallowed, and she added, "I think we all are."

"So, what do you need from me?" he asked. His face was more straight and focused than she'd ever seen him.

Finally, she did laugh nervously. When she breathed, the exhale was broken up by the loud stuttering, which cut off her breath in short spurts. "Kiss me, Munroe."

His face sank with what seemed like dread, and her chest hurt a little by the reaction. "K-kiss?" he stammered apprehensively. He braced himself by gripping the edge of the bed.

Sam shoved down the bit of rejection by rolling her eyes. She reached across the three feet space between the beds and pulled on his arm, "I'm serious. You want to help me? Then, help me by seeing what happens."

He was guided to her bed. He sat wide-eyed as if frozen by her words. She scoffed, not bothering to hide her offense, "No need to be a jerk, Mike."

She started to stand up – to move away from him – but he shook his head and shot his hand out to grab hers. When she turned back around to him, she looked so pissed off. She tried to rip her hand away from him, but he pulled her to him.

"Sam, I feel the same way. I'm just caught off guard." He threw her smile before he reached for her more ardently. She felt his grip shake, and her eyes became unreadable. When she was close enough, he rested his forehead against her, "How do you feel now?"

She swallowed, "This isn't–"

His eyes settled over hers, and he moved his head back when she tried to mold her lips to his. "I'm not going to kiss you, Sam."

Her brows drew tightly together, and he felt her try to pull away from him. "Fuck you, Mike."

He shook his head and he carefully allowed his lips to form a smile. "The thing I'm thinking about is the fact that just hours ago I was balls deep in Emily," he explained. He held her where she was, but he felt her slacken and relax a bit.

Mike moved his hand over her cheek. He loved how soft her skin was. "You can explore how I make you feel in other ways that wouldn't disrespect you, Sam." Gently, he lifted his mouth to the tip of her nose, "I'm also not prepared for what I would feel. I'm not mentally at that place where it would be a good idea."

Sam seemed to understand. "Sorry," she uttered softly. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot or pressure you." She swallowed and moved her forehead against his. "I guess I'm not thinking clearly either."

"Please don't apologize, Sam," he pleaded with a soft smirk. He kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her, "I'm glad you feel the way that you do." He chuckled quietly and she lifted her head up so she could look up to him. She saw his eyes go distant, sad. "I hit Emily afterward, Sam. I'm not okay."

Sam rolled her eyes and pushed at him, bringing his attention back to her, "Neither is she."

His left eye twitched as he offered a false smile. She put her hand on his face and lowered it so he looked at her again. Her thumb rubbed on his skin twice, and he moved his hand over hers delicately. He brought it down to his lap between them, holding her hand. "I want to let this take its natural course, Sam. I don't want to hurt you."

Sam squeezed her hand in his, listening attentively. "All right, Mike. You win."

His injured hand lifted hers up to his lips, and she noticed the injured fingers didn't curl with the others. With his other hand, he uncoiled her tense fingers one by one, exposing her palm.

His thumb traced the lines of her limb, "Your hands are so small." Mike lowered his head to her hand, gently brushing his lips softly over her palm. He tenderly moved her arm so that her hand cupped his face as his mouth moved down her arm to her elbow.

His dark eyes closed and he moved behind her so that his back was against the wall on her bed. He pulled her down soothingly so he spooned her. "Your whole body is so small, Sam," he commented.

Sam felt his strong heartbeat against her back, and she felt him shift his legs a bit. This warranted a smile from her mouth, "Do I feel a disturbance in the Force right now, Munroe?"

He chuckled softly, "As a naive young lady, I am appalled by your familiar use of such language, mister!" He'd raised his voice an octave to partially imitate a feminine voice. His arm snaked over her waist and brought her closer to him. Sam was highly aware of the hard, protruding bulge at her back. "I've never felt so much from just touching someone."

Sam narrowed her eyes and turned so her head glanced up at him. She softly smiled, "I don't mind it, Munroe."

He buried his face in her neck. Her skin vibrated as he growled at the exposed flesh. The delicious act caused her to moan quietly. She found his hand and laced her fingers in his. "I've found my favorite sound," he said against her flesh. His lips brushed against the soft skin as he spoke slowly, seductively.

She swallowed and willed herself to fight against the urge to moan again. Her eyes fluttered shut as he bit her skin lightly and traced the edge of his teeth against the skin there. Her brows caved in toward the center of her face.

Sam opened her eyes, desperately pleading to whomever would spare her of the blissful agony. Mike moved his hand underneath her shit, but stopped when he reached the bottom of her breast. His thumb brushed beginning of the swell, but he did not move higher to cup her breast like she yearned him to. She swallowed, "What's that?"

She felt him smile devilishly against her neck, and he gently ignited her body when he teased her neck with his hot tongue. Sam moaned loudly, the sensation foreign and new and unexpected. He closed his mouth over his tongue and suckled delicately there.

She felt her legs squirm in response. She involuntarily moved her legs to mesh with his long, muscular limbs. He pushed her hips forward so that his leg swallowed her body underneath his. She moved her feet against his legs. His muscles responded by contracting and releasing quickly. Mike panted and pulled back slightly.

She saw him lick his lips and smile bashfully. His eyes hungrily held hers, and he whispered, "There are more ways to explore feelings, Sam." His hand glided over her shoulder lightly, and he leaned in to kiss the flesh softly, "Without restraint, I'm certain that my feelings will be eclipsed by the weight of what I feel for you. I don't want that to happen." He swallowed swiftly, and he brought her close again, "You're not like anyone, Sam. You can't let me become animalistic with you until we both con control ourselves."

She didn't know what to say, but she allowed curiosity to speak for her, "What's your favorite sound?"

He chuckled hoarsely into her neck. "Let's keep that a secret for now."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Dancing wasn't a strength of Mike's. Sam knew this from their first session, but she never said anything about it.

Years of experience had shaped Sam for the world and movement of dance. Dreams would guide her to the stages of New York City when she was younger.

Hannah always told her how she wished she could have danced like Sam danced. The girl wasn't great, but she spent the time to understand the mechanics of each count and the rhythm of the music. That was what made her dedicated.

An air of relaxation and soft fun filtered around Mike and Sam when they were together. Sam still hadn't "LOL'd" as Mike wanted her to, but she certainly seemed to smile when they danced.

Mike was right about her leg injury. She needed someone to help her through the motions in order to continue the activity.

He wasn't terrible, though. His strength was any movement that resembled a specific activity involving a bedroom. He was quite good with moving his hips. He joked that his extensive experience in the bedroom helped him.

It was probably true.

Unlike Sam.

He would never know about her virginal mannerisms when she rocked her hips against his as the dance demanded. He wouldn't know she hadn't been held by anyone the way he held her right now.

Sam feared him finding out she was a virgin. The day before they all left for the mountain with Beth and Hannah, Mike had offensively told her that virgins were off limits for him. He said something about them being inexperienced and unknowing of how to please him.

Sam feared that now that she found herself needing him around, he needed to think she wasn't untouched by any other man. She wouldn't lose this man. The loss of Josh had impacted her greatly, and even he was hesitant to make a move or act on his feelings for Sam.

More than anything, Sam didn't want to be treated like a fragile angel. That's how all boys treated virgins - as if they were something to either mock or place on a pedestal.

The group always poked fun at Ashley for being a virgin, too. The girl probably wasn't anymore, but before they all went back, she'd found the academic girl crying in her dorm room on multiple occasions.

Sam didn't want to bother with it all. She wished it didn't matter.

But it always did in one way or another.

She broke away from him and turned, reframing her arms in order to sweep the large gymnasium floor. He seemed to appreciate blending in different dancing styles. She liked that about him.

The way he held her made her feel safe. The way he towered over her short body when they moved rocked her heart in a way she could finally accept.

And she would fight to keep this feeling in her chest. Mike had changed in a way that was unnoticeable to his peers and professors. Only the group knew what demons they all faced at night.

For now, though, Sam would focus on becoming happy again because she wanted to move forward with her life. Preferably with the man who stared at her with those big brown eyes with a glint of mischief in them.

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**AUTHOR's NOTES**

This story will begin to embrace its secondary horror genre in the next chapter. Are you prepared for this?

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**BREVIARY-ROSE**  



	4. Chapter 4

**The . Dawn . Will . Come .**

****

**AUTHOR's NOTES**

Thanks for reading! Enjoy. I'm changing the direction of this story so it won't be the standard "Everyone returns" cliche story plot. Please take time to review. It helps me! Truly.

**ADDITIONAL NOTES**

**Spoilers will occur for those who forgo research or those who have not finished the game.**

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**Chapter 3**

"Sam..." a voice whimpered.

The girl shook out of her slumber and glanced around the room. Sam thought it odd that it was still daytime. She never took naps during the day…

Her knees bent and she apprehensively remained frozen on her bed. Her hands supported her as she sat up on her pillow. Her eyes watered immediately as she saw a phantom of her past, "Josh!"

The boy stayed away from her by the window, leaning against her desk along the wall. His forested, green eyes lingered over where she sat. He gripped the edge of the wooden desk until his hands shook. "I've missed you, Sammy," he told her intensely.

She allowed herself to cry, and she began to slowly stir out of her bed. Josh whipped his hand up, "No, Sammy. Stay away!" His voice roared, and she flinched.

"Josh, are you real?" she whispered from where she sat. Despite him intensely watching her, Sam stood up, but made no move toward him. She opened her mouth, but words failed her as her chest heaved roughly. She began to exhale violently. She wiped away her tears and closed her eyes as she looked away from him.

In her silence, he replied, "Right now I am, Sammy. I'll always be real for you."

When she calmed down, she stepped closer to him once, "Mike said you were taken by Hannah! Where have you been since February?"

She noticed a spark of madness twitched at his eyes when she spoke. His features darkened, "Mike..."

Her head tilted, "What about him, Josh?"

"Stay...away...from him, Sammy. You're mine, and he can't have you!" he babbled insanely. He chuckled dementedly, and Sam swallowed back fear.

Her head shook when she asked, "What are you talking about, Josh? You abducted me! I had no part in that prank at all, but you still hurt me!"

He furiously shook his head and narrowed his eyes at her. He approached her by taking two large steps toward her...steps that were far too long of strides for his reach. His prowl toward her caused her to step back against the nightstand.

He reached out his hand, but she didn't take it. He was visibly angered by this. He coiled his fist and howled at her, "You have to be mine! After all I've suffered! All for you! Sam, I've loved you, and you left me to die at the mountain all alone!"

Her brows drew together and her tears dried as fury coursed through her bloodstream, "Fuck you, Josh! You attacked me in your God damned prank!" Two tears fell from her eyes, and she drew both of her hands in toward her chest, "ME!"

His eyes glossed over and large tears dripped from his eyes endlessly. He still shook his head, "I only wanted time alone together!"

Sam wanted to run, but her legs wouldn't budge. She coiled her fingers tightly and wiped away freshly falling tears with her left wrist. Her throat felt swollen, but she hoarsely retorted, "Why didn't you tell me how bad things had gotten? I thought you cared about me! I watched you continuously hook up with other girls, and I was always right there waiting for you to make a move!"

His features softened significantly, and his eyes appeared sad, "I didn't want to show you because you would have thought I was insane! I never intended on letting you know because you wouldn't have treated me the same!"

"You can't know that! You never gave me the chance to help you," Sam fought. Her chest heaved, but she stood her ground, "I would have stood by your side because we were always at least friends, Josh! That's what friends do for each other!"

Josh stepped closer to her until he was barely out of arm's reach, "I never wanted to be just friends with you, Sammy." His voice broke, and he shook his head, "I never saw a hint of interest from you until that night! It was too late by then!"

She shook her head, "Josh, you've known me since we were seven years old! I'm not forthright with my own feelings. Besides, the last thing you needed was for me to hang all over you after your sisters went missing! I was intent on waiting for you to reach out for me when you felt it was the best time!"

Seeing him sob injected sympathy in her heart, so she turned around to the nightstand to reach for a tissue. As her back turned, she heard Josh shriek quite like a Wendigo. Immediately, she tried to turn back around, but she collided roughly against the wall.

Her body landed on her bed, but her head hurt from the initial impact. Her back was still facing him, and she felt something strike her shoulder, feeling the wet red blood quickly oozing from her skin there.

"Josh!" she cried out. As her body shot up in the bed, she gasped in agony. She glanced down at her shoulder, and she saw a fresh, open wound there. Her shirt had been ripped so that the side of her shirt hung over her arm.

She painfully reached for the lamp on the nightstand to turn on the light. The world had gone black again despite it just being so bright out. In her effort to do so, though, she cried out in pain. The throbbing, tingling sensation gnawed at her shoulder.

When she finally turned the light on, she heard glass at the window shatter. In response, her body quickly bolted out of bed, but she saw nothing there. A late October chill infested the previously warm room. She felt herself crying profusely, but she was able to make her way to the door.

With her unscathed arm, she reached for the doorknob and flung the door open. "Help!" she called out. Where was Mike? "Shit," she hissed as she turned around. The motion pulled the inflicted flesh tightly.

She turned around when she heard further disturbance in her room, since she'd left the door ajar. She swallowed and desperately glanced around for an idea to spark in her mind. That's when she saw the handle for the fire alarm.

When she pulled it, the whole hallway illuminated a dull red from the three emergency lights above. As a contorted, disfigured shadow formed in her room against the wall of photos and posters, she stood still. The noise of the alarm was loud, but it didn't startle whatever was in her room.

The thin, tall shadow prowled in her room, but whatever was in her room did not move so she could see the body within her room. She winced as two girls rushed from the room to Sam's right. They pushed her against the wall.

The impact against the wall caused her to whine in intense pain, "Fuck!" Sam pried herself away from the wall, and she saw blood streaked across where she was displaced. Her hand moved over her shoulder and cradled her shoulder.

Girls passed her by without regard on her side of the floor. Some nearly trampled over her as they passed her by. Sam moved her hand away from her injury, and blood soaked her hands. The figure haunted her from its stationary position where it lingered.

"Oh, my God, Sam!" a feminine voice shouted from behind. Sam twisted her body slightly, seeing Jessica. The other girls eyes also focused on the illuminated shadow on Sam's wall. When it moved, the other girl screamed and began to pull Sam's inflicted arm. "Fucking Jesus! Sam, run!"

The two girls ran down the stairs, which were flooded by the other girls of the building. Sam's shoulder raged with a ferocious ache, and she retracted her hand from Jessica. The blond girl with French braids reached for her other hand, but Sam was the one who led their way down the two flights of stairs to the outside of the building.

When they got outside, they realized it was raining and a chill passed through the area. Sam only wore a battered and torn tank top with a sports bra and those volleyball shorts she favored when sleeping or lounging. The bite from the environment didn't bother her as much as her shoulder.

"Jessica!" Matt called from the darkness. "Jessica?"

The girl raised her hands and flailed them over her head, "Over here, Matt!"

Matt urgently gravitated to the girl and embraced her quickly when he got to her, "Fuck, I was scared something happened to you!"

Jessica stammered and reached for his shoulders, gripping them tightly, "I-I saw it! It was in her room, Matt!"

His brows weighed heavy with concern, "I don't understand. What did you see?"

Sam tuned out their exchange as she walked around the building to stare at her broken window. Her eyes remained blank, but her hands coiled tightly.

The world began to mute slowly, and she realized her lip was bleeding on the inside of her mouth. The steel, cool taste of blood was the only things her senses allowed her to experience.

Eventually, Mike stood in front of her and he looked like he was crying somewhat. His face became hazy and her eyes became a chore to keep open.

She obliged her body's command to fall asleep until all she heard was a harsh shrill in the direction of the forest a few hundred yards away.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"I don't understand! What do you mean you saw it?" Ashley whined against the bitter darkness.

As Sam's vision began to stir to life again, the world became too bright and too white all at once. A steady beeping pulsed in the background. Other voices not as loud as the worrisome girl to the left chimed in in response to the girl's panicked state.

"Shut up, Ashley," she heard Jessica say. Jessica sounded irritated. Ashley probably carried on for a while, knowing her.

Sam felt the motion of her lids twitching back to life, but nothing felt more profoundly prominent as the warm hand holding hers. A familiar hand cupped her cheek, "Sam?"

As her eyes fluttered open uncertainly, her body flinched when she saw Mike's broken expression. His eyes were red and puffy. His features shifted to a grateful grin as he held her gaze, "Hello, Samantha Scott." His voice was milky and sweet.

She hated her given name, but when he said it, she didn't mind it as much.

She tried to speak, but her throat caught the sounds. He shook his head. "Shh. I'll get you some water."

He did, and he helped her drink by holding the glass. Normally, she would hate being taken care of, but he struck a chord in her confused heart with that smile he flashed for her. His eyes weren't on anyone else on the room.

Sam coughed and glanced around the room, seeing everyone back together again. She hated seeing everyone, but she supposed she needed to confront them with what happened. Eventually.

Preferably when her throat didn't feel like it was strangling her.

Chris approached her and held the side of the hospital bed tightly, "Hey, Sammy," he awkwardly stated. As she threw her eyes over the rest of the group, she noticed everyone looked terrified.

"We have to talk about this!" Ashley continued hysterically.

Chris turned around, "Fuck. Ashley, shut up for now. Sam needs time to adjust."

Ashley flinched at the harsh words. Normally he was so comforting, "Chris–"

He held up his hand, "Ash! Seriously. Stop."

Emily scoffed, "You can't expect her to just drop it."

Ashley glanced over to Emily, surprised that she would come to her defense, "Em–"

The black haired girl uncrossed her legs and smiled snidely, "She always makes things about herself."

The group began to ignite in a passionate argument until Sam squeezed Mike's hand. "Everyone, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he shouted in her place.

Sam wondered how he knew what she needed to say. Their connection had formed that night. A part of her was glad it hadn't dwindled away. She swallowed and hoarsely said, "I saw Josh."

"Oh, God!" Ashley howled.

Sam twitched at the pitch of her voice, but slowly continued, "In some way, I think he is alive. I think he did this."

Chris chimed in, "There's no way this could be true."

Mike interrupted the conversation, "Just like the Wendigo aren't true."

Chris glanced irritably at him, but pressed on, "Fair point, but this is the guy that was dragged off by Hannah. In Canada. In his psychotic state."

Emily swayed her hips and leaned against the wall, "And?"

Chris swallowed, "I'm just saying it could be a break in, too. Like the police are saying."

Sam nodded despite not believing him, "You're right. It could have just been a break in."

"No, I saw the figure in your room, too, Sam! There's no way that was human," Jessica retorted, staring at Chris. "I was there. I saw it!"

Ashley curled her legs and placed her hands over her ears, "We're going to die! We're all going to be killed!"

The blond boy rushed to her and pulled her to him, "Ash! You need to calm down. No one is going to die."

"What are you saying? We're being hunted again! It followed us!" she shouted.

Matt cleared his throat, "Until we figure this shit out, can we all go back to being friends again? We all survived together. That's what we need to focus on: being together again."

Chris glanced at him and eventually nodded. Matt moved his eyes over the others, who all responded in kind. Even Emily. Matt's attention settled over Sam and Mike, "You up for that?"

They nodded.

The conversation died as well as the tension. Ashley and Chris left momentarily so she would calm down. Sam thought this was a nightmare, but what else was she supposed to do?

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**AUTHOR's NOTES**

I decided to bring the horror to them. :D Stay tuned for the next installment.

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**BREVIARY-ROSE**  



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